


366 Days of the Year

by Robin_GrimmGoodfellow



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Hobbit Culture & Customs, M/M, Nothing Hurts, Other, Overprotective Dwarves, Sassy Bilbo Baggins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_GrimmGoodfellow/pseuds/Robin_GrimmGoodfellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One drabble for every day of the year, based on a 'National Holiday' list. Starting with January 1 and going into December 31, this will follow the adventures of Bilbo Baggins and Company in an idyllic world where nobody died (except for the jerks).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January 1: First Foot and Z Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally my NaNo 2016 project. Heads up, I made 10,000 words in that. The way I've designed this, while I SHOULD post what I've got on the day they're due, I'm not actually gonna do that to you. I'll instead take what I have and post it evenly throughout the year, so if I have, say, 12 chapters (I don't, I'm so sorry, I suck at writing on command) I'll post one each month. Right now I have five written, so the next one should be out onnnn...gimme a second...like March 13. ish. 
> 
> If I've got something out before then, that means I've written more! Yay! 
> 
> Oh, as for tags. I'm trying to tag stuff as I re-read, which means you may see more tags pop up that don't really seem to correspond with anything I've got posted. If you think I've missed a tag, let me know and I'll add it in. Right now, the characters list is speaking characters, pretty much in the order they appear. I've actually kind of forgotten who all I've written about and what I've just planned to write about, so that may be changing as well.
> 
> Next, I'm kinda curious to see if anyone actually reads my notes, so if you have just add Aestivation to your comment.
> 
> Lastly, if anyone wants to check out the day list I'm working from, look at this list here - http://www.hexjam.com/uk/news/what-crazy-national-day-falls-on-your-birthday (sorry, I don't know how to add links. You'll deal). If you want to request a day or something, just mention it in the comments and I'll see what I can do for you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo runs into a little hobbity problem. The dwarrow, as a collective, lose their damn minds.

"Thank you for offering to do this for me, Dwalin," Bilbo called, preparing the bed for a long sleep faster than Dwalin thought was possible.

"Let's just get this over with, yeah?" Dwalin asked, strained. He looked upon the scene with a sour face, glaring as he started to remove his knuckle dusters.

"My thanks to you, Dwalin," Bilbo repeated, fluttering his hands as he continued moving blankets. "I don't usually have this much warning, but I knew it was going to be a hot summer even before we started to run the forges more than last year."

"You call a few hours warning?" the dwarrow gruffly asked, hands calm as he laid next to the hobbit, making sure that what remained of his armor wouldn't pinch.

"Well-" Bilbo cut himself off with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes and curling up tighter underneath the blankets he'd slid beneath. "We usually get enough warning from the weather outside that we don't have to worry about it happening this fast. For exam-" yawn, "example, if I had stepped outside in the past week, I likely would have seen the signs in the ground."

"But now His Majesty is off buggering with the elves and you do try to follow his wishes, so you've stayed inside," Dwalin rumbled, making sure all the smaller hobbit was underneath the covers.

"You're lucky I was able to have Nori take over the training of the guards today, otherwise you would have to have made do with Lady Dis." He heard a snore and looked down at the sleeping hobbit curled up against him and sighed.

"The most I've talked and months and you're asleep for it. Figures." Dwalin leaned back against the headrest and started thinking of a way to explain this to Thorin.

There was no way that the king would take this news calmly, so his only option was to make sure Thorin knew what was going on before he got back to the castle. If not, he would rage at their position in bed together before allowing Dwalin to explain. That wouldn't do; it may wake Bilbo.

The hours passed calmly and quietly, Bilbo snoring in his sleep ever-so-slightly.

"Do me a favor, Nori, and go tell Thorin that Bilbo is sleeping, would you?" Dwalin heard a sigh, but nothing else. "Thanks, love," he grinned at a wall sconce.

He patiently waited for his friend to walk into the room, absently petting Bilbo's hair. Minutes later, the King Under the Mountain, as well as his Heir Apparent (and the Heir's heir) walked into the royal bedchambers.

"Is he going to be alright?" Fíli asked, coming near the bed but not touching it. Kíli followed right behind his brother, close enough to reach the bed but not enough to reach Bilbo. Thorin stepped next to the bed in his place, placing a hand on the hobbit's head but not petting as Dwalin had been.

"Nori told me some of it. He said it was like hibernation, but different." Thorin looked to Dwalin for an explanation, even as he started playing with Bilbo's hair.

"Bilbo said that it's called aestivation. It's when-"

"He told me about that!" Kíli said excitedly, cutting Dwalin off. "It's hibernation except when it's too hot the hobbits stay in their holes and don't come out, instead of too cold." 

"Do you know how to fix it?" Thorin asked, looking to his sister-son but not moving his hands from his hobbit.

"No. He didn't tell me that, just that they come out of it on their own when 'the planting is better'. I still don't quite get what he means by that though."

Dwalin harrumphed. "That's because you cut me off earlier." Dwalin, having ceased his petting earlier, placed a hand on Thorin's arm. "Now calm down before I hafta remove you from your consort's room. It wouldn't do for you to wake him. He needs his rest."

Thorin nodded, his mind more on Bilbo than on Dwalin, although his hands did slow slightly.

"As I was saying b'fore some rude young thing cut me off, it’s when the weather is too hot and dry for the hobbits. Most of what I managed to get out of him wasn't worth much, but what little bit I got was basically this - he'll be fine and will wake up when it gets cooler or wetter in the mountain. Just let him be and he'll come back to you soon enough."

The two dwarrow looked at each other, neither happy with the arrangement they had fallen into. Sighing, Dwalin moved to pull back the covers.

"Do you want to lie down with him now?"

"Yes!" Thorin immediately said, stripping off layers as he spoke.

Moments before Orcrist hit the ground, Thorin was situating himself where his shield-brother had just laid. Bilbo made a humming noise and turned into Thorin's side, rubbing his nose into the dwarrow.

"Dwalin, please go check with your brother to see if he's heard about this, or any ways of fixing our issues. Fíli, go speak with Ori, see if there was anything in the Library about adding water to the air or making it cooler. I don't think there would be, but we should look at all our options before making any decisions. Kíli, go to Óin and see if he has any suggestions. I know he hasn't much interaction with hobbits, but the worst we can do is ask him."

Fíli and Kíli nodded, walking out the door close enough that their shoulders brushed. Dwalin looked back at Thorin and Bilbo, who was still sleeping peacefully.

“If you need anything, call and I will come," Dwalin glared at his oldest friend. "I've used my quota of words for the day, so don't expect any more."

"I would never," Thorin replied.

Dwalin put his knuckle dusters back on his fingers, slung Grasper and Keeper onto his back, and stalked out the door. He had an appointment to keep.

Hours later, after talking with Balin (who knew nothing, but would look into it), Dwalin was walking back to the Royal's Corridor when he got hit. Immediately he twirled Keeper into his grasp, moving to get a better view of what had just slammed into his back.

Kíli grinned, too used to Dwalin threatening him to actually fear it anymore. "Óin's figured it out! I'm off to get more water."

The older dwarrow narrowed his eyes but accepted this answer, twirling Keeper onto his back again before continuing on. He opened Bilbo's door only to be blasted in the face with a curiously cool cloud of steam.

"Quickly, quickly, don't let all the cool air out!" Bilbo called, waving him inside.

Dwalin did as ordered, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind himself. Looking around, he took in the new additions to the room since he'd seen it last. Among the numerous buckets placed around the bed, there were fans behind them, blowing towards the bed where Bilbo still lay. Now, however, the hobbit was awake and smiling.

"You're up?" Dwalin asked, looking at Bilbo.

"Oh, yes, the aestivation wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. Kíli got to Óin and he knew just how to fix me up, so he brought these buckets in and put hot stones in some and ice in others."

Dwalin nodded, seeing where this was going.

"He poured water onto the stones to make steam, and fanned the steam across the ice to make it cooler, and after a few minutes of that I was up again."

"It was more than a few minutes, ghivashel," Thorin said, sitting next to his consort. "Closer to a half-hour I'd say."

"Well, bully for you, then," Bilbo replied, wrinkling his nose. "I say a few minutes, and that's that." The Consort Under the Mountain huffed and fussed with the blankets around his legs for a moment, keeping his eyes away from the dwarrow in the room.

Dwalin made himself comfortable on the chair near the door, waiting for Bilbo to continue speaking. Thorin, still close to Bilbo on their bed, was near-compulsively petting his hair.

"I am sorry, though," Bilbo says after a few minutes, rolling the blanket between his fingers. "I didn't think that the aestivation would happen to me like this, or that I wouldn't be able to give you any warning. Would you forgive me, Thorin?" Bilbo asked, looking up at the dwarf through his eyelashes.

Thorin snorted, stalling his petting but not ceasing. "Of course I will. But we will be having an extremely long discussion later on the merits of informing somebody who is not my buzzard-brained nephew about the quirks of your hobbity biology."

Thorin sternly looked at Bilbo, and Dwalin held back a sigh. Who knew what else Bilbo was hiding somewhere in his brain.

"Of course, sötnos."

Dwalin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, trusting Thorin to keep an eye on his spouse. For now, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Khuzdul - ghivashel = treasure of all treasures  
> Hobbitish/Swedish - sötnos = cutie/cutie pie/sweet nose
> 
> Translations may be off given I don't speak any of these languages. Hover-translations are within the text itself.


	2. January 2: Run Up The Flagpole and See if Anyone Salutes It Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili gets a bright idea.

It was Fíli that had the bright idea this time, oddly enough. Typically, when you think 'mad, mind-bending stunts' you think of Kíli first, but not always. No, this time Fíli, son of Dís, lion-hearted and buzzard-brained, thought it was a good idea to design Erebor's new flag. While in theory this sounds like a great plan (and it would have been fine if it was left at designing) he then told Kíli about his design ideas. Kíli of the aforementioned harebrained schemes.

Bilbo sighed. "Don't get me wrong, boys, I do enjoy our talks most days, now is really not the time. Explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to turn yourselves into Erebor's new flag?"

Kíli grinned, bright and scarred face upside down, copper necklace jingling around his ears.

Fíli grinned as well, an upright counterpoint to his brother.

"I'm sorry Mister Bilbo, it seemed reasonable at the time-" Ori was cut off by Gimli.

"It was nothing of the sort, and you know it; you just thought it would be amusing and went along with us. Besides, we needed a fourth and our only other option would have been someone not of the Company, and you weren't going to have that."

Ori's only response was a brilliant blush starting up his cheeks.

Bilbo just shook his head. "If only you were down here, and then I could have a proper scribe making a decent image, and not just a half-baked burglar."

"Hey!" Ori snapped, shyness forgotten in defense of one of his siblings. "That's my brother you're talking about!"

"It's not, love," Nori called, rolling his eyes. "We've got more than one burglar, and apart from that- I do not burgle, I thieve, and there is a difference."

"You're getting distracted from the main point here! How are we going to get the dwarrowlings down?" Dori's worried voice carried from where most of the Company had gathered, surrounding the flagpole, all the way to the outer reaches of those watching the spectacle before them.

"Oh, we've known how to get them down," Nori reassured his brother. "Bilbo's just been stalling long enough for him to finish their portrait. _The City's New Flag_ , he's calling it."

"And it's done!" Bilbo called, nodding towards Dori before looking up to the younglings. "You can come down now!"

Kíli, who was most of the support, shouted back "Finally!" before stilling again.

Bilbo could understand why he was excited, if immobile. The flagpole, built differently from the ones back in the shire, was shaped similar to the rune for 'ea', with a main pole giving height, and a support structure across the top allowing flags to hang and still be seen, unlike shire flagpoles consisting of a solid pole, allowing wind to blow the flag into a visible position. It was crafty, he'd give them that. But it was also dwarrow work, meaning it was strong enough to support four younglings thinking it was a grand idea to make themselves into a flag.

Kíli had climbed up first, hanging from his knees to the top of the pole. Fíli was holding Kíli's legs with his own extended, allowing Kíli to grab and hold them. Fíli himself was strong, and with Kíli concentrating solely on holding Fíli's legs, Fíli was likely in the second-most secure position within the 'flag', even if it seemed the most precarious.

That award actually went to Gimli and Ori, holding hands over the top of Kíli’s legs while standing on Fíli’s. Their left hands were holding onto each other's forearms in the warrior's grasp, right hands waving to the dwarrow at their feet.

Getting ready to descend, Gimli and Ori looked to each other, then down to the crowd below.

"Dori, you've got to promise not to yell when I come down, or I'll just stay up here!" Ori shouted, focused on his older brother, who was even now worrying at the braids in his hair in his fear.

"You too Adad!" Gimli shouted next with a firm nod.

"Alright, alright, just get down from there!" Nori called up, before Dori could force the words out of his mouth.

Ori dithered for a moment, trying to see if Dori would agree, but Kíli, loud enough that those on the ground could hear, grouched first.

"Hurry up! It's hard enough holding Fíli without you two standing up there as well!"

Ori frowned at Kíli before taking Gimli's other hand as well.

"Ready?" he asked quietly, assessing the youngest dwarrow's bearing, trying to see if he was ready to brave the climb back down.

"As I'll ever be," Gimli replied, swallowing nervously but grasping Ori's arm tighter regardless.

"Good," Ori replied with a small grin. "Now let's get this over with. Dwarrow aren't made to be up this high."

"Agreed," Gimli muttered with a small grimace.

"If you two don't hurry it up, I think that Dori's gonna start climbing the flagpole," Fíli told them, looking over their clasped arms to the ground where, indeed, Dori was pacing near the base of the flagpole.

Ori wrinkled his nose but nodded, waiting four heartbeats then stepping off Fíli’s leg in time with Gimli, placing his boot firmly against the flagpole. Moving slowly but resolutely, they start walking down the flagpole the same way they came up, using their partner's weight as ballast. It wasn't a fast strategy, but it was a safe one, and minutes later both younglings were back on the ground, facing their elder's wrath.

Ori, keeping his face turned to the ground, saw Dori start to puff up like an angered quail.

"At least give them enough time for all the scatter-brains to hit the ground b'fore you start in on them," Bofur told the silver dwarrow. Dori huffed, but started to deflate all the same, focusing more on reassuring himself that his brother was okay.

Ori gave in to the fussing, allowing Dori to tug his scarf back in place, turning to see what the rest of the Company was up to.

Bilbo, betraying his glib words from before, was staring with a single-minded focus at the youngest Durins.

Thorin was standing at his shoulder, staring with an equal amount of focus.

Glóin was fussing over his son, patting him along his arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken, and then pushing Óin to do the same.

Dori was clearly fussing over Ori, with Nori watching from his position near Bilbo.

Dwalin was standing with a hand on Nori's shoulder, switching his gaze between his younger cousins evenly, his brother standing closer to the Urs but watching the princes more.

The Urs, in fact, were divided in their attention. Bofur was standing with Dori, focusing more on keeping Dori calm than seeing if Ori was okay, which was fine by Ori. Bifur was watching the younger princes as they started to climb down, and Bombur was watching Thorin, presumably to see how he was dealing with his nephews being up so high.

Not well, it seemed.

Given Kíli was supporting most of Fíli’s weight, it made the most sense for Fíli to move first. Which is exactly why Fíli was dangling from Kíli’s legs while the younger dwarrow was sitting up, keeping his legs as straight as he could.

Ori flinched away from Dori's reflexive clench in his hair, Dori's hands immediately softening in apology.

Sitting upright at last, Kíli looked at his brother for a moment before nodding, waiting a moment, and kicking his left leg into the air. At the same moment, pulled into the air, Fíli adjusted his left hand from holding on to holding up and supporting most of his weight. Once he shifted (which took a mere handful of seconds, if that) he let his right hand go and started to drop, stopped by Kíli’s own hand at the last second.

Kíli, who was sitting on the top of the bar at this point, started to shift so that instead of having both legs on the same side of the pole, his right stayed where it was and his left went over to the other side. As Kíli swung his leg, Fíli swung his right leg up, getting just enough of a lift to push-pull himself (with his brother's help, of course) onto the bar opposite Kíli.

From this point they were in the clear, given the troublesome twosome were now in the same position Gimli and Ori were in minutes before. Grasping each other’s arms firmly, they started walking down the flagpole as Gimli and Ori had before them.

Reaching the ground in silence, heads bowed in apparent shame, the boys waited for the storm to arrive. And arrive it did, with a vengeance.

"You two have a lot of explaining to do, lads." The tiny hobbit was never as terrifying as when he had disappointment on his face, and now was clearly not the time to argue about whether or not the two aforementioned dwarrow would be considered lads.

"Yes, Uncle Bilbo," the two chorused.

"And don't think I'm forgetting about the two of you either," Bilbo said, turning to face Ori, then Gimli.

"Oh yes," Dori replied with a near-feral grin, "Let's talk about that."

Ori whimpered and turned to Nori.

"Tell my spouse I loved hen."

He was so mournful about it that Bofur gave a laugh, before backing away to let the _other_ terrible twosome do their work.

Oh joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Khuzdul: adad - father, dad
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry about being late! Good news is I have another chapter finished! Mostly! I've just got to finish editing. I've also got a few more in the works, and whatnot.
> 
> So, question time. There are characters within this fic that are trans, nonbinary, asexual, and aromantic (as well as a few other things I'm still working on). Do you think I should add tags as these characters are introduced, or as it's revealed that they're trans/nonbinary/ace/aro/ect.? Answer in the comments below, please.  
> (Or, hey, just comment. I like comments. Kudos are nice and all but give me feedback if you would)
> 
> Next chapter should be out around May 25, unless I finish up what I've got rattling around. Which I might.


	3. January 3: Festival of Sleep Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wants a lie-in. Bilbo, less so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm so crap at updating. Except I'm kinda not because nobody seems to care about this? Like I care and my favorite chapter to date is chapter 5 but I'm pretty worried about everyone's (lack of) reaction to it, so I've been debating whether or not I really want to keep updating. At any rate, this is here now. (Reviews are nice, guys. I've got 40 kudos and no comments so I don't know if you're guilt-kudosing or if you actually like it)

The halls were silent as the stone they, ages past, had been carved from. While in hidden corners there was quiet movement, most of those moving were simply the local wildlife, thrushes and Ravens and alley cats (for all that there were no true alleys inside a mountain) alike. There might have been signs of what had happened the night previous, were any awake (or aware) enough to search for them.  
   
"Come back to bed," the King Under the Mountain moaned. "It's cold without you, kurdu." Bilbo shook his shoulders out, cracking his neck and ignoring his husband's whine.  
   
"Truly I say to you, O Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain - you are the biggest whelp I have met in all my years."  
  
Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, whimpered, pulling the covers back over his eyes, casting a lone hand out towards his consort.  
   
"But you love me?" Thorin tried.  
   
"But I love you," Bilbo agreed, patting Thorin's slowly cooling hand.  
   
"Enough to come back to bed with me?" Thorin pleaded, eyes just peeking out of the layers, begging without words.  
   
"Not quite that much," Bilbo denied, rolling his eyes and turning to the wardrobe where he kept his clothing.  
   
"If there's my missing Spymaster in there I will be incredibly disappointed," he told the wardrobe. Waiting a moment before he opened the door, Bilbo was mildly surprised.  
   
"Huh," he murmured, to himself more than to the dwarf still drowning in their bedcovers, "I was honestly not expecting that."  
   
"Expecting what?" Thorin asked, rolling onto his side as to watch over Bilbo better. What, exactly, he was watching Bilbo for never was quite discussed, although Bilbo was of the opinion that it was more to give Thorin a better chance of looking with pitiful eyes at his hobbit than any other sort of reason.  
   
"Expecting our wardrobe to be utterly devoid of dwarrow, if truth be told." Bilbo cast an accusing look over the waistcoats, as if expecting them to be hiding Erebor's finest Spymaster to date. Shrugging off the oddity, Bilbo took his clothes for the day and started picking out Thorin's as well.  
   
Normally the roles were reversed, at least in part, as Thorin awoke first most days, but today it seemed the king was trying to get his beauty rest.  
   
"Why are you still asleep, latmask? Normally you are awake and roaring with the sun by now." Bilbo glanced over at the still, mostly-asleep dwarrow, lazing with a grin on what could be seen of his face, the rest hiding under the covers or a pillow (specifically, Bilbo's pillow).  
   
"Today is nurtu zelfar, literally, the day of supreme sleep. It is customary that after large festivals-"  
   
"-Like Durin's day, for example-"  
   
"Yes, like that; it's customary that we take a day of rest after, to rejuvenate ourselves from our hard work the night before." The sleepy dwarrow nuzzled into his hobbit, who had wandered closer to the bed while listening to his love's explanation.  
   
"Hard work?!" Bilbo exclaimed. "The hardest work you dwarrow were doing the night before was lifting the tankard to your lips! And more often than not you were missing!"  
   
Thorin, now with his head in Bilbo's lap, made a pathetic whinging sound. "Nobody will be awake or ready to work today, ghivashel. It would be easiest to just get back in bed and let tomorrow take care of itself."  
   
Bilbo sighed, looking down at his sad husband. "Never put off until tomorrow what could be done today. Otherwise the planting would never get done and we'd all starve."  
   
"It's not like we had any plans make for today. Loni knew what they were doing; they didn't plan anything until after lunch at the earliest, maybe even supper." Thorin continued looking pitiful.  
   
Bilbo absolutely did not even think about smiling at the thought of the extra meals that Thorin had instituted purely for his pleasure (and maybe a little bit of his wellbeing as well).  
   
"Well, I guess, if you're convinced that you're not needed today," Bilbo drew out, bracing himself over his husband and leaning towards his face. Thorin blinked his eyes open, eyes focusing after a moment on Bilbo's own.  
   
"Then I guess you won't mind if I take today to start reorganizing the treasury, since you won't be in here all day," Bilbo perkily continued, throwing himself out of the bed and bounding towards the door. "After all, it's not like you would really be willing to get out of bed to stop me," he threw over his shoulder, walking out and shutting the door behind him.  
   
"BILBO!" he heard shouted moments later as the Consort Under the Mountain raced through newly renovated hallways.  
   
It was always an enjoyable event once Thorin caught up with him.  
   
Maybe even one day he'd actually get to organize like he wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Hobbitish/Swedish - latmask = lazybones  
> Khuzdul - kurdu = heart, nurtu zelfar = the day of supreme sleep, ghivashel = treasure of all treasures  
> Ah, Thorin and his many pet names makes my day. As does Bilbo's many pet names. I love it!  
> Hover translations available in text. If I missed any, just suffer because it's not like you're gonna comment (although if you do comment I'll go back through and fix it up, I promise. I'm just bitter because _no one is commenting_


	4. January 4: Trivia Day and Humiliation Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo takes a jerk down a peg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! The next chapter coming out is my fave so far, and will like double the length of the story I think. So have fun with that!

Finally, a day to garden. Truly, a hobbit is never happy without dirt underneath his fingernails or toes. Humming a little ditty that he'd heard around the mountain at some point, Bilbo gently gathered leaves to one side, checking underneath for improper growths, either on the plant itself or in the carefully tilled earth beneath it.  
  
Hearing a rustling behind him, he spun to his feet, one hand drifting towards Sting before he caught sight of the dwarf. They looked familiar. Probably a member of one of the Guilds, or maybe the Council, based on their clothing.  
  
“What do you think you're doing, mister?" The irate hobbit scowled.  
   
"I am just going about my business as a council member aught," the equally irate councilman replied. "Explain to me what you think you are doing, growing these... these _plants_ here."  
   
Bilbo glared. "And why should I explain anything to you?"  
   
"I don't know if you are aware of this, _sir_ , but I am an extremely influential member of His Highness' court. In fact, I would even go as far as to call myself a member of his most trusted Company," the proud dwarrow responded.  
   
"Oh indeed," Bilbo drawled, watching the scribe sneak up behind the elderly dwarf, preparing to transcribe the rest of their conversation. "Ah, well, you've caught me; I'm growing things in this previously abandoned greenhouse that isn't a greenhouse. It used to be an empty (corridor, or maybe terrace? I think those are windows.) terrace. Yes. Growing things in a terrace," Bilbo rambled, watching the dwarf out of the corner of his eyes as he turned to his plants.  
  
"I don't understand why it would be of any importance to you what I do in my spare time-" Bilbo saw the dwarf starting to puff up and continued on, ignoring the reddening face, "-but let me explain what exactly I'm doing here, so that you might understand and let me be." Bilbo doubted that such a thing would happen, but having it written down (by Ori, of course) would be helpful should the rest of the council put up a fuss.  
   
"This here is the _Vanilla plainifolia_ , which I will allow to grow until I rip out the seed pods, burn them, and grind them into a paste which I will put in the princes' dessert." He ignored the gasp.  
   
"This is the _Crocus sativus_ that I allow to grow to full maturity before - you see these threads starting to grow here? - I pick the stigma growing, and dry it for a few days. After, I sell it to the cooks and various textile workers, including the weavers, spinners, and sometimes even the thread workers if they feel up to a challenge.  
   
“As I'm working by myself here (nobody else thinks they're up to the challenge of working in a _garden_ , for goodness' sake) I can never quite meet their expectations. It nearly drops into a bloodbath every Winterfilth. Thankfully nobody has ever notified the Guards when I'm about to sell, because that would just be another hassle to deal with."  
   
Bilbo (of course meaning the fact that Thorin would, to put it delicately, go orc-shit in fear that his little hobbit consort would be murdered, throttled by angered dwarrow) took a sly glance towards the reddening council member. If he wasn't mistaken, the dwarf in question was Salvór son of Sólvi, a conniving, war-driven dwarf. This is going to go very well for Bilbo, and significantly less well for Salvór, he could tell already. Tuning back in to whatever Salvór was ranting about while being ignored, Bilbo, unnerved, heard his own name mentioned.  
   
"-ad enough that we allow the Princeling's halfling whore to wander around doing as he wishes, it's not like we should allow anyone else to do the same." Salvór nods, face resolute. Looking around for something, the dwarrow spun to check behind himself (Ori ducking behind a fortuitously placed pillar) before grabbing Bilbo's arm.  
   
"EXCUSE ME." The older dwarrow flinched away from the sound. "I DO NOT APPRECIATE YOU TOUCHING ME IN THIS MANNER. LET GO OF MY ARM. NOW." Bilbo never quite yelled, but his statements were more forcefully said than they had been moments before  
   
Relaxing his grip in his surprise, Salvór's grip was loose enough for Bilbo to tear his arm free.  
   
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME IN THAT WAY. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM." he said, the question implied more through word choice than tone.  
   
"You're nothing- a nobody. Just some bratling that thinks they can grow illegal substances in the hidden parts of the kingdom." The council member was sweating now, perspiration collecting on the visible parts of his forehead. Still, he tried to take control of the situation, grabbing onto Bilbo once again.  
   
"Come with me and I'll see to it that your punishment is not excessively severe."  
   
"EXCESSIVE. I SEE THAT YOU DO NOT KNOW WHO I AM. I SHALL RECTIFY THIS. I AM BILBO, SON OF BELLADONNA, DAUGHTER OF ADAMANTA, HUNTER OF ENTS. I AM BILBO, SON OF BUNGO, SON OF MUNGO, BAGGINS OF BAG END.  
  
“I AM BILBO, HUSBAND OF THORIN, SON OF THRAIN, SON OF THOR, KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN. I AM BILBO, CONSORT UNDER THE MOUNTAIN.  
   
“I AM HE THAT WALKS UNSEEN; THE CLUE-FINDER, THE WEB-CUTTER, THE LUCKY NUMBER, THE STINGING FLY. I AM HE THAT BURIES HIS FAMILY ALIVE AND DROWNS THEM AND DRAWS THEM BACK FROM THE WATER TO LIVE ONCE MORE. I AM THE FRIEND OF BEARS AND ELVES AND DWARROW AND MEN ALIKE, AND GUESTS OF EAGLES ASIDE. I AM RING-WINNER, LUCK-WEARER, AND BARREL-RIDER.  
   
“I AM FIRE, I AM DEATH. I AM RULER WITHIN THIS KINGDOM, AND YOU SHALL TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME THIS MOMENT." Bilbo glared once more at the now-shaking dwarrow, whose grip on the hobbit was the only thing keeping him upright.  
  
Bilbo, with a haughty look, delicately shook Salvór's hand from his shoulder.  
   
"Your Highness, my apologies," the prostrate dwarf pleaded.  
   
"THE PROPER PHRASE WOULD BE 'YOUR MAJESTY, MY HUMBLEST APOLOGIES, MAY MAHAL STRIKE ME WHERE I STAND SHOULD I SPEAK UNTRUTH'. UNLESS, OF COURSE, YOU SPEAK UNTRUTH. DO YOU SPEAK UNTRUTH." Bilbo looked behind Salvór to see Dwalin staring, jaw dropping at the sight of the fabled 'Hobbit of Quiet Fury'.  
   
"No, my lord, I speak no untruth."  
   
Bilbo sighed. "I HAVE TOLD YOU ONCE ALREADY, THE PROPER TERM IS 'YOUR MAJESTY'. I SHALL NOT NEED TO TELL YOU AGAIN."  
   
"Of course, of course your Hi- Majesty! Your Majesty." The dwarrow didn't quite sob, but it came close.  
   
"NOW, WHAT IS THE PROPER PHRASE TO BE SPOKEN." Bilbo could actually hear the gulp as the council member tried to moisten his parched throat.  
   
_My, how the day has changed for him,_ Bilbo thought uncharitably. _First he sees a stranger doing strange things and attempts to reprimand him, only to be dropped to the floor by the power of my voice alone. And fear as well, I guess._  
   
“My humblest apologies, Your Majesty, should- should Mahal strike me where I stand shoul- should I speak untruth." The prostrate dwarf cried out the last few words, hoping to speak them quickly and get the 'striking down' part over with.  
   
“Salvór, son of Sólvi! What are you doing with my Consort!" Thorin charged down the hall, coming to a stop in front of Salvór, who still hadn't lifted his head.  
   
"He was attempting to, ah, _inform_ me of the proper way to garden in my little corner of Erebor," Bilbo informed him dryly, feeling better already. "I believe Ori has a transcript of our little conversation. Most of it anyway, I might have gotten a little bit about general safety practices in before he started asking more questions about the actual plants. I got as far as the saffron before he started trying to bring me in."  
   
Bilbo pouted.  
   
Thorin's knees weakened.  
  
"And I so wanted to see his reaction to my almost-namesake, or my mother's. Or a few of my cousins, to be honest," he continued. "Speaking of, REMOVE YOURSELF FROM MY GARDEN THIS INSTANT," Bilbo ordered. "You're lying in my Oleander."  
  
Hearing the name, Salvór stiffened and tried to move away without becoming upright or touching the flowers his face was so close to.  
  
"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? REMOVE YOURSELF. YOU DO YOURSELF NO GOOD LAYING IN A FLOWERBED TO POISON YOURSELF, FOOLISH DWARF."  
  
Hurriedly, Salvór did so, standing without pause once ordered again.  
  
"Go to the Healer's Wing, get yourself checked out by Hlein, son of Hlei. He'll make sure you've not poisoned yourself beyond repair. Stay there until I've sent someone to deal with you." The Consort Under the Mountain, shoulders thrown back, glared at the quivering dwarf in front of him.  
  
"NOW."  
  
He turned tail and ran, faster than Bilbo thought he was capable of.  
  
Now that that's taken care of," the hobbit continued, turning towards his husband, "however did you know that I needed you?"  
"Isn't obvious?" Thorin asked, a hand coming to rest upon his smaller spouse's cheek.  
  
"I had Tauriel following Kíli following Fíli following Balin following Dori following Nori following Dwalin following Ori following you. We've never had the best of luck in gardens, love."  
  
Dwalin sighed and closed his eyes. Moments later, a sharp crack was heard and Dwalin re-opened his eyes to see Thorin on the ground, a hand clutched to the reddening mark on his cheek.  
  
"You swore never to speak of it again!" Bilbo shouted.  
  
"But I-"  
  
"NEVER."  
  
"Yes, m'love," the abashed dwarf replied.  
  
"Now, I'm assuming Tauriel was the one to get you?"  
  
Thorin nodded.  
  
"I'm going to have a few words with my  nibling-wife. Tootles, Thor."  
  
Dwalin watched the smaller of the two stomp away, before carefully motioning to Ori with naught but his eyebrows.  
  
Ori looked at him. "You think I'm stupid? I was raised by Nori, Mister, and I ain't following _him_."  
  
Dwalin sighed, ignoring the slight, and bowed his head, trudging along. "One day," Dwalin grumbled, "one day I will find where you hid them and on that day I will end the line of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror."  
  
"But not today~" Thorin sang from the ground.  
  
Dwalin snarled and kept trudging. Perhaps, if he informed Bilbo of the blackmail, the Consort Under the Mountain would take it easy on him?  
  
A Dwarrow could hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Robin's English - nibling = child of your sibling, like a niece or nephew (but gender neutral)  
> Hover translations in the text, also on some random words (like _Vanilla planifolia_ or Winterfilth) that aren't common


	5. January 5: Bird Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli meets with an old mentor and discusses why he is a birdie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it this is it this is it!! This is one of my favourite chapters to date, and def my fav of everything I've written for this story. Kíli's rant in the middle was such a pleasure to write, as was Bilbo. Bilbo is always amazing but - hell yeah, basically.

"Of all the things to call me," Kíli grumbled, "why is it always birdie or elf?" Reaching behind his shoulder for another arrow, he drew back, sighed, and let the arrow fly.  
  
"You know better than I, young Lord." Kíli cast a glance behind him to see the speaker. She was an elderly dwarf, her Durin-dark hair lightened with age.  
  
"Not a lord, m'lady Nomi," Kíli replied, reaching for another arrow.  
  
"Not a lady, your Royal Highness," the dwarrowdam replied, smirk playing around the edges of her face.  
  
"I swear, you've likely changed my nappies before. You don't get to go around calling me _Your Royal Highness_ ," Kíli scowled, letting go of the arrow and reaching for another in the same movement.  
  
"Alas, young Lord, I think I do. It's part of what makes you royalty. That little bit of being a higher rank than all but four within this mountain." Nomi smiled, but not a happy one. "Within half a century that number will go down to three, two if you're unlucky."  
  
Kíli winced at the reminder of his Uncle's mortality, and watched his arrow fly off target.  
  
"That was not the first arrow you've missed. Come lad, chat with me for a while. Humor an old matron."  
  
"Not a matron either," he grumbled, placing his bow behind him on the bench placed there for that reason.  
  
"HOLD!" he shouted towards the rangemaster.  
  
"CEASE FIRE!" the other dwarf commanded. "RANGE CLEAR!" they shouted after a moment, seeing everyone else had laid down their own weapons. Taking the rest granted, the dwarrow on the range, Kíli included, started walking toward the target line.  
  
Kíli, indifferent to what he had managed to screw up this time, quickly began to gather his arrows, tossing them uncaring into his quiver once more.  
  
"Did I teach you to treat your equipment that way? I surely hope not," Nomi continued, gathering her own arrows with a care greater than Kíli's own. "I have after all been teaching scores of dwarrowlings for centuries. I'd hate to think that I'd been giving bad teaching."  
  
Keeping his face downturned, Kíli let his eyes slide towards the older dwarrowdam. She was staring at him with an unimpressed look stamped across her face, clear for all to see.  
  
"Ah. Yes. Well," he started, before sighing and shaking his head. "It's no use. All I'll do is destroy it in an increasingly painful way. Let's just get this over with, shall we?" Kíli missed Nomi's carefully disguised frown.  
  
Having gathered his quiver once more, Kíli started walking back to the top of the range where he'd left his bow. Reaching it, he stiffened as he saw the creatures standing next to his father's bow.  
  
"Look," one sneered. "The little birdie thinks he's an elf! Let's not tell him he's a failure of a dwarf instead." Marni, the dwarf in question, was absurdly proud of this statement.  
  
"At least I don't think picking on the crown prince is a good idea," Kíli returned evenly.  
  
"Oh, are we picking on you?" the elder sneered. "I wish I'd known before, I woulda been nicer on you. Oh wait, no, I wouldn't 'ave. Because you're just a windy-brained elf-lover. Not a true dwarf at all."  
  
Kíli stiffened, his fingers clenching and hand straying towards one of the knives Fíli had slipped into his waistband earlier.  
  
"What was that you were saying about our prince, lassie?" Nomi called, loud enough for dwarrow three stands over to hear with crystal clarity.  
  
"I, ah-" Marna stumbled over her words, looking for something to say.  
  
"I thought I'd heard you say something about a windy-brained. That's not a nice thing to say about your brother, lass," Nomi continued, looking sternly upon the younglings in front of her. "Now, let's say we forget about this. You forget about your brother being such a wind-brain, and I forget you'd said something of the like. Let's not get the guard involved."  
  
A cold smile came upon the elder dwarrowdam's face, calculating to the extreme. "I don't think you'd like that very much. After all, there's a reason you don't come at him with others around, isn't there?" Nomi glared.  
  
Kíli, caught between an unstoppable force and an easily moved object, tried to take the path of least resistance.  
  
"Now's the bit where you leave us alone and never make a mention of this to anyone. That's a good youngling." Kíli ignored the fact that both of the other dwarrow were older and him as well as attempting to set fire upon him with their gaze alone.  
  
"Now, young Lord, let's have that chat that you're avoiding, yes?" Nomi glared impartially at the dwarrowlings in front of her.  
  
"Yes, Master," he said, shoulders sagging but following, taking a moment to grab his bow.  
  
Walking with a purpose through the crowds, Nomi took the lead. Kíli morosely followed, shifting his bow onto his back, then back into his right hand, then his left.  
  
"Where's your beads, lad," Nomi asked, glancing behind him.  
  
"Amad thought that they were unfitting of the line of Durin, so she said I couldn't wear them in public."  
  
"So you go without any." Nomi nodded. Kíli waited for the rebuttal, the inevitable 'you should have made her listen', 'you should have done it regardless', 'you did wrong and are a failure'.  
  
"Good lad."  
  
Kíli tripped over thin air, heart stopping for a second.  
  
Seeing his reaction, Nomi frowned. "You knew she wouldn't listen to you, so you did what you could to make her change her mind. That was a good move, Kíli, and a smart one besides. It's Her Grace's own fault at that point. She knows what she must do in order to get you to do what she wants, but is refusing to do so. There isn't anything you could do about that, lad. It's just her own stubborn self getting in the way at this point."  
  
Still frowning, Nomi stopped their walk and put a hand on Kíli's shoulder.  
  
"You did good, lad," she repeated, shaking him slightly, "and I will tell you so until you believe it."  
  
Eyes wide, Kíli stared at her in shock. Nobody had told him that he did something right what seemed like a long, long time.  
  
"I know it's hard to believe," Nomi continued, pulling Kíli forward to rest her head on his own, "but adults are not the wisest among us all. We do make mistakes, and I believe I have done so to you."  
  
"Bu-"  
  
"No buts, Kíli. You should not have to fear my reactions. You should not fear what  any say to you." She shook him gently. "You are Prince Under the Mountain! The only people within this land who can tell you what to do are your Uncles. Your brother and mother may suggest, but given your ages they cannot tell you what to do." Silvered eyes stared into his own. "Child, the only people you must fear are those who you never should."  
  
Kíli shrugged again, uncomfortable with Nomi saying his fears out loud.  
  
"I will tell you this again until you believe me," Nomi said with a firm nod. "But first, let's get out of this hallway."  
  
Kíli checked his surroundings to find that they'd made it to the halls Nomi shared with her spouse. They were a kind dwarrow, taller than Nomi but shorter than Kíli (as most were these days, what with his freakish elf height). _Nomi and Tonni's shared living quarters were a sight for poor eyes_ , thought Kíli.  
  
"How in the name of Mahal did you manage to recreate those scuff marks on the ceiling? It had taken Fí and I weeks to make all of those!" Kíli grinned, looking at the scuffs on the ceiling and most of the walls. "And these burn marks! Weren't those from when Tonni tried to surprise you and you accidentally shot them?"  
  
"Aye," Nomi agreed. "Tonni wanted to surprise me again, and as they got here first, they spent their time waiting far more productive than I would have been. They did their very best to remake our old home in Ered Luin here. Of course," Nomi sat down and patted the seat next to herself, "just having scuff marks wouldn't be enough. No, Tonni actually got a hold of one of your Company's dwarrow and remodeled the layout of the room, with their help."  
  
"No," Kíli drew out quietly. "There's no way they could have managed to convince Glóin to redesign one of his rooms. He was so proud!"  
  
"They did indeed, my lad," Nomi said with a grin. "Tonni said that Glóin had agreed only after days of begging and mentioning how pleased I would be with it."  
  
"And were you?" Kíli asked, fingers twitching again.  
  
"Very much so." Nomi reached into the crack between the cushion she was sitting on and the arm of her chair.  
  
"Before you drive all us crazy," she told Kíli, and tossed what looked like a copper colored cord to the younger dwarf. Shocked, Kíli started moving the loop in his hands.  
  
"But  I thought Amad had gotten rid of these," he said, wrapping the necklace around his wrist before unwrapping it.  
  
"Silly lad, you think your mother is the only one able to create as well as destroy?" Nomi chuckled, shaking her head. "No, the only thing your amad did was make it difficult on Tonni and I for a little while. Just because she didn't get rid of the copper, it doesn't mean that my little forge friend didn't want something in turn."  
  
"Oh, Nomi," Kíli said, stopping his fiddling immediately. "You didn't say it cost you - here, take it back. I don't want to ruin it if you need it."  
  
Nomi's smile froze on her face. "Kíli, that is yours to keep. I gave you a gift, and I intend for you to have it."  
  
Kíli shook his head. "You must have made a mistake- this couldn't be for me. People don't give me gifts like this." Horrified, Kíli felt tears starting to come up.  
  
"Child." Nomi stared directly at Kíli again. "Just because your mother puts more pride in the Line of Durin than in her son, does not mean we all fall to the same folly. I care for you, as does Tonni, as well as Fíli. I know that if you had said something to your uncle over the years he would have stepped up, and this new uncle of yours would do the same now. Honestly, I'm fairly certain that Dís would stop if you would tell her that you're hurt by what she's doing."  
  
"But I can't be hurt!" Kíli cried out, dropping the copper to clench his fists, fingers shaping into claws and digging into his palms mercilessly.  
  
"I'm of the Line of Durin! I'm a dwarf of Erebor! I'm one of Thorin's Company! Dwarrow are made of stone, they don't feel like we do! Dwarrow are too short but I'm too tall, the others here think I'm more elf than dwarf, I can't cry b'cause if I do then I'm not fit for the throne!" Gasping out a sob, Kíli went from clenching his fists to dragging his fingers over his arms, nails catching on threads and tearing through without pause.  
  
"I'm not good enough, I'm never good enough! Too tall for the dwarrow too short for the elves, wilder than the other children but too loud to go out, I'm a fuckup no matter what I try to do! The others call me little birdie, because I find somewhere high to hide when it gets too loud and tackle them from above when able. I am NOT a bird! I hunt and I fight and I go to court with Uncle!"  
  
Crying now, Kíli was totally blind to everything going on around him, caught in his own mind. Nomi tried to still his hands and he shook her off, grasping handfuls of his hair instead and tugging, pulling his knees to his chest at the same time.  
  
"I can't do it I can't do it I can't do it-" shaking his head, Kíli gasped and stopped himself.  
  
"I try and I fail and I try again and Amad tells me I'm a fuckup I know she does just because she doesn't say it doesn't mean she doesn't think it I know she things it. She has to, I hear it from everyone else. Why else would she tell me I'm an embarrassment to the Line of Durin? Why-hy-hy-" he broke off into sobs, dropping his head onto his knees and moving his hands to the back of his head, rocking in his seat near-frantically.  
  
Still blind to everything around him, Kíli missed Nomi looking up with a glare.  
  
"Not a birdie. Not a birdie. I'm a dwarf. 'm a dwarf. 'nd a fuckup. I'm such a fuckup, I'm horrible, I can't do anything right-" Kíli stopped as he felt familiar hands on his own.  
  
"Nadadith, calm. Breathe with me," Fíli said, taking exaggerated breaths and ignoring his own pounding heartbeat.  
  
Grasping at the hands on his head, Kíli tried to do as his brother asked. Slowly, Kíli's breaths started coming back into line with Fíli, although sometimes it would hitch and then he would sob some more.  
  
"Keep breathing with me, Nadadel."  
  
Kíli snorted, then gasped again when he couldn't immediately breathe.  
  
"Always, Atamanel," Kíli replied once he had enough air to speak.  
  
Fili huffed a laugh, still timing Kíli's breathing. "Uh-un. No speaking until you're ready to talk, Nadadith. You know the rules."  
  
The younger rolled his eyes, but waited the minutes with his brother's forehead resting against his own, slowly uncurling.  
  
"How'd you find me this time," Kíli asked, eyes still closed but breathing finally even.  
  
"Your guard sent for Uncle whenever they noticed you speaking to a strange dwarrow. None of them had met Nomi before."  
  
Kíli froze for a moment.  
  
"Breathe," Fíli ordered. Kíli heaved the breath in on command, heart racing.  
  
"You were with Uncle today," he stated quietly.  
  
"Aye," his brother agreed.  
  
"Uncle was in a council meeting."  
  
"Aye," he agreed again, quieter.  
  
"With Amad."  
  
"Aye."  
  
"And you all came. All of you."  
  
"'Twas so, little bro." Kíli clenched his fingers, and Fíli pressed harder into him.  
  
"Stoppit. It was bad enough seeing Amad and Uncle trying to touch you when you were like this, I'm not going to see you hurt yourself further just because they finally found out about it."  
  
Kíli reared back, then fell forward almost as quick, head spinning at the quick movement. Fíli met his brother's gaze evenly, and caught him with a swift move that nearly left Kíli leaving his breakfast on his boots.  
  
"It's not the end of the world, Kí," Fíli said quietly.  
  
"How much did you hear," Kíli gasped again, heartbeat pounding in his ears.  
  
"Kí-" Fíli whispered.  
  
"How much," Kíli ordered.  
  
"From the time Nomi mentioned the line of Durin, inùdoy," Dís said.  
  
Kíli's fingers clenched in his hair immediately, not lightening up for any of Fíli's gentle pressing.  
  
Bilbo immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. "I told you not to say a word until Kíli spoke first. I would not hesitate to pull rank on you, I swear to all that I care for I wouldn't pause a minute! If you say another word before he asks you to, I will throw you out of this Valar-blessed mountain I swear to the Green Lady."  
  
Dís puffed herself up in a righteous fury.  
  
"I will help him. Sister, sit down and silence yourself until we get to the bottom of the mess we've made."  
  
In the face of her brother's own anger, Dís quieted.  
  
"Now that this is settled," Bilbo started, "I feel that we all need to have a chat. Master Nomi, would it bother you terribly to oversee us and tell us if we're about to step on a tender topic?"  
  
"Not at all," Nomi replied.  
  
"Excellent. Now, Kíli, are you okay with us talking about this right now? We have to talk about it at some point, but it doesn't need to be today."  
  
Bilbo, kneeling on the floor in front of Kíli (and when did he get there? time always passed oddly when he was panicking) waited with the patience of the hunter in the stand.  
  
"...Fíli stays," he finally said, after thinking on it. "And Amad doesn't."  
  
Dís gasped quietly. Everyone in the room ignored her.  
  
"Kíli, she needs to hear what you have to say. Is it alright if she stays and she doesn't speak?"  
  
Kíli turned to his brother.  
  
"You need to make this decision. But I will stay with you, and help speak when you cant."  
  
[Yes,] he signed.  
  
"Thank you, Kíli."  
  
Bilbo nodded and got up, turning to Dis.  
  
"You, sit there, say nothing. If you think about speaking you are, at the very least, getting gagged and thrown out of this room. You," he turned, pointing to Thorin, "are sitting here, next to me. Master Nomi, if you wouldn't mind starting us off here."  
  
"I wouldn't mind. Not at all," she said, easing back into her chair.  
  
Fíli got up from the floor and sat next to Kíli.  
  
"Now, let's see. How does the story start..."  
  
She took the chain Kíli had dropped earlier and took it between her fingers for a moment.  
  
"Ah. Yes. Lets start there."  
  
She lifted the chain into the air, gazing at the tiny links carefully.  
  
"When I was a young dwarf, my amad noticed that I wouldn't keep still for longer than a moment. She gave me a necklace similar to this one when I was, oh, fifty or so. She told me that since I would play until I broke, I was to play with this until it gave out. It finally did a little over thirty years ago now."  
  
Doing some quick math, Bilbo looked at Kíli.  
  
"And play I did indeed. I could twist it and bend it and wrap it, and as long as I didn't pull it apart it would last me for decades, she said. As I grew, I used it less while in public. I ended up finding Tonni and finding happiness there as well, and eventually I realized that while I had worn her necklace almost every moment I could, I never used it outside of my rooms. So I stopped wearing it.  
  
"Soon, though, as I was on the range, I found a little dwarrow lad following around his uncle, playing with everything he could touch. I started giving him lessons, and once he himself turned fifty I gave him my mother's necklace."  
  
Fíli closed his eyes, knowing what was to come.  
  
"Excited, of course, he said he'd take care of it with all he had, and swore on his beard to do so."  
  
Thorin exhaled through his nose before glaring in his sister's direction.  
  
"He kept it in my rooms for a few years, saying that he didn't think his uncle would approve of wearing such a thick chain. He was terribly proud when he told me that he'd asked his uncle and he had granted his permission for such a wild fashion statement. The next time I saw him, he was crying and the necklace was broken into a good dozen pieces, each too short to do anything with."  
  
Lifting her gaze from the chain and to the rest of the room, she left her solid stare on Dís and handed the chain to Fíli.  
  
"That was the first time I saw your son have a panic attack. He told me that he had broken the necklace for fun, and that I shouldn't have given it to him in the first place, as that was what happened when you gave gifts to children. It was nearly a decade before I got the true story, and that was from Fíli."  
  
Turning to Bilbo, the only one who hadn't lived through what happened, she continued her explanation.  
  
"As the elder prince told me, Her Royal Highness didn't care for the constant clinking of Kíli's necklace, nor the look of the copper against his skin. So she broke the chain into short enough pieces he could do nothing with it but cry."  
  
Bilbo turned to glare daggers at Dis. "Once this is finished, you and I are having a heart-to-heart on the merits of self-stimulation. Just because you don't need something to help you manage your behavior, that doesn't mean others don't."  
  
Kíli flashed a grin towards his brother, who looked at him with a shake of his head.  
  
"That's not gonna happen, dear," Thorin told Bilbo.  
  
"A hobbit can dream, can't they? At any rate, Master Nomi, if you could continue," he said with a nod towards the archery master.  
  
"As you wish." Crossing her fingers together, Nomi cast her mind back, trying to remember what else happened.  
  
"Life continued on, for the most part. Kíli was incredibly still, and had I not known what had likely caused it I would have been proud to see him able to stop what he thought of as a negative trait. However, knowing that he wasn't the one who chose to stop, did put a bit of a damper on that.  
  
"At any rate, when Kíli was about sixty he started braiding his own hair seriously, and I started the designs for some beads. When he was seventy I gave them to him. At that age he was old enough that for any but his immediate family to do his hair was shocking, and any but himself strange.  
  
"The beads I gave him were works of art, in my own humble opinion. I have no talent with metalworking myself, but Tonni has some skill as a jeweler and this was close enough to let them stumble through until a more skilled smith came along."  
  
"I never knew those beads were for my sister-son though," Thorin said with a grin. "I would have carved tiny arrows in them if I had."  
  
Kíli grinned at the thought.  
  
"What kind of beads were they?" Bilbo asked his husband.  
  
"Oh, the greatest little thing," Thorin answered. Lifting one of his own braids, he showed it to Bilbo. "You see how mine are long here, with the raised edges towards the top and bottom? This design had a base piece like this one, with another band going around that wouldn't be connected. It would allow the center to spin freely, unhindered."  
  
Nomi nodded. "And that was the point, m'Lord. It would allow Kíli to fiddle with his hair beads without removing them from his hair entirely."  
  
Bilbo nodded. "I see. And I assume that Dís disapproved of them?"  
  
Fíli nodded emphatically, his mustache beads clinking. "She hated them! Said a son of the Line of Durin should wear his line's beads or none."  
  
"So he wore none," Bilbo said flatly. "And caused mockery and scorn from every new dwarf he came across, because they thought he was so far removed from the Line of Durin that he wasn't even allowed beads for his hair."  
  
"Aye," Fíli agreed, rubbing Kíli's shoulder in sympathy.  
  
"Well, that answers most of my questions from you, Master Nomi, but could you perhaps explain what happened today?"  
  
"Alas, I only have some of the answers for that mystery, Your Majesty. I was down at the range, hoping to run into Kíli there so I might gift him the necklace again. In the time I was there, I noticed both Kíli's superb aim, truly marvelous marksmanship, and the disdain shown from any of the nobles near him. Two, Marna and Marni, called him little birdie. I resolved the issue and started leading Kíli to my chambers.  
  
"Along the way, I complimented him on the way he handled the braiding situation with his mother, and he reacted poorly. Once in my rooms, we spoke for a few minutes and I gave him the necklace. He got about as far as trying to give the necklace back before I stopped him, and that's about when you came in."  
  
"I see," Bilbo said, drumming his fingers on his leg. "So basically, the brunt of our problem stems from two angles. Dís feels as though Kíli is doing something shameful to the Line of Durin, and has broken his things over it. Kíli is being shunned by the nobles of Erebor, in part due to the fact that he no longer wears the beads of Durin. Am I missing anything?"  
  
Dís raised her hand, and Bilbo turned to look at Kíli. "Is it alright if Dís speaks now?"  
  
Kíli played with the necklace woven in his fingers for a moment. Bilbo waited patiently for an answer. Dís, less patient, started tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair she was sitting on, missing the irony. Thorin didn't and glared at his imbecilic sister once again.  
  
"Yeah," he finally said, quieter than he had been in a long while.  
  
"Thank you, Kíli," Bilbo told him, turning to Dis.  
  
"What did you have to add to that, Dís?"  
  
"You're also forgetting the fact that I was a horrible mother to my son. I thought that you were doing these things to spite me, not to help you."  
  
Fíli snorted. "No shit, Amad. We got that bit. Anything else?"  
  
Dís wiped the tears out of her eyes and put her game face on.  
  
"Master Nomi, do you still have the patterns for your beads?"  
  
"Aye," Nomi agreed after a moment. "I do."  
  
"Well, now that we have good steel and silver again, I don't see why we can't make Kíli's beads. After all, my main problem with them were that they were made out of mannish steel and it set a bad example for the rest of our people that we would allow one of our Princes to wear such shoddy work, no offense meant. Nori shouldn't mind engraving them for us, and if he does we could always pay him to do so.  
  
"The nobles may take a little longer, but once they see Kíli wearing beads of our line, if unusual ones, it should die down fairly quickly. Everyone else still making noise about it would be reported to either Nori or Dwalin soon enough, so that will solve itself too." Dís looked upon Kíli with a sad smile.  
  
"I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize what was going on. I'm very, very sorry inùdoy. I'll do my best to stop it, as long as you'll let me try."  
  
Kíli blinked a few times, still shocked from Dís's beginning words. "...alright. Let's see how this goes."  
  
He looked all around the room at his family and grinned. He was feeling much better now. It would take a little while to get back up to code, and his heart was still beating a little fast and his breaths a little shallow, but it would do.  
  
Although he still hated being called little birdie.  
  
(Bilbo, seeing how Kíli's mood had brightened, carefully avoided letting him know just how harshly he scolded his mother later) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Robin's English - rangemaster = the person in charge of watching everything going on out on a firing range, in this case archery  
> Khuzdul - Nadadith = ~brother that is younger, little brother, Nadadel = brother of (all) brothers, atamanel = breath of all breaths (basically Kíli is being a cheeseball here), inùdoy = son  
> Hover translations in text, as is usual by this point.


End file.
